Knives Under Dresses
by silverwolf2002
Summary: In a world of royalty and rebellion, Marinette is nothing but an innocent baker who has dreams of becoming the royal stylist, and having her love for the witty but cold Prince Adrien be requited. By night, she transforms into the infamous Ladybug, who along with her partner Chat Noir are leaders of the countries largest rebel group, looking to unseat the cruel King Hawkmoth.
1. Of Macarons and Raindrops

The macarons were burnt again.

Trying to push down feelings of panic, Marinette brushes her gloved hands against her apron, causing bits of batter and flour to scatter onto the wooden floor. She reached into the oven, bringing out the warm tray of macarons, scrunching her nose as the scent of burnt goods entered her nose.

_Mother was going to freak._

"Okay Marinette. You can do this. You just need one tray of somewhat acceptable goods..." She says under her breath whilst scraping the failed macarons into the bin.

"Besides, you're good at baking, aren't you? Just why is it that when we actually need presentable food, your arms start having a mind of their own and mess things all up?"

Grabbing a second tray, she begins to mix the almond flour and confectioner's sugar into a second bowl whilst praying that she wouldn't mess it up all over again. She _needed_ this batch to be perfect. No, her entire family needed this batch to be perfect.

After all, as the country's only gourmet bakery, they had a reputation to uphold, and the burnt macarons that were now lying in the bin by the cabinets certainly did not fit the high standards everybody expected from her family. It certainly didn't help that in three days time was the renowned autumn ball, where high class citizens from all over the country would be travelling to the palace in their finest clothes, for the King's annual masquerade party. And it certainly didn't help that the Dupain-Cheng's baked goods would be one of the main treats that would be presented on the marble tables in the grand ballroom.

Marinettes macarons would be tasted and _judged_ by all kinds of high class people, possibly even royalty themselves.

She shivered despite standing in the warmth basking from the stove as a thought suddenly intruded into her head.

_Prince Adrien might be one of the people sampling these treats. My treats._

She shivered again.

When Mother and Father had revealed to her that it would be _Marinette_ that would be in charge of this years ball, she was ecstatic. Hell, even ecstatic was an understatement. Literal tears had run down her pale face as she bounded up to her parents and jumped to embrace both of them, squeezing them until they were gasping for breaths. As she was a natural borne klutz, her parents had never trusted her with baking for important events. They had no problem with displaying her goods in the store for customers to admire, and yearnful whispers of her creations had begun to spread within the neighbourhood, and then throughout the entire city as more and more customers came in to taste the delights. Yet as soon as members of royalty were involved, her parents had shut her out, leaving her behind to guard the bakery as they travelled to the countless balls the King held with their croissants and pies in hand.

But Marinette was 17, almost 18 now. And after countless hours of pleading and begging and several back and forth arguments that usually ended in tears and screaming, they had _finally _allowed her to be in charge of baking for the ball. And not just any ball. The Autumn ball- the one she had dreamt about all her life; Where under glittery masks and layers of fabric, the higher class danced in the dim lights to the palaces finest performers.

As an aspiring stylist, she had always wanted to see the whispers of how the ball gowns fluttering in dance looked like a sea of color, how the countless fabrics and jewels of the gowns meshed together to create a living personality on cloth. As a baker, she had always wanted to glide up to the legendary marble table of treats herself, to taste the lemon tarts and apple crumbles baked to perfection by the royal chefs, to melt in ecstasy as every bite filled her with joy.

But most of all- as a _girl _there was only one thing she wanted to see.

Or person, should she say. She had only met him once, briefly, when they were five years younger.

When she was buying ingredients to the famous Dupain-Cheng croissants in the outdoor markets- when all of a sudden there was a crack of thunder, and rain began to pour in showers. All around her, people began to raise their umbrellas in the air, or put the hoods to their coats up, but Marinette had nothing.

With her dark hair plastering to her forehead by the rain, she had hunched over, trying to protect the ingredients she bought that were in a flimsy paper bag when all of a sudden, the rain stopped.

But it _hadn't_ stopped. She could still hear the pitter patter of the droplets thundering against the cold ashphalt into a loud crescendo of sound, yet she could no longer feel the droplets fall against her head.

So she had looked up to see a black umbrella above her, shielding her from the onslaught of weather. As she trailed her eyes down and opened her mouth to thank whoever her saviour was, her words had died in her throat. Because her savior had been just a boy, one around her age, one who's green eyes pierced hers as they glinted humorously, matched with a gentle smile that she had since replayed in her mind countless times.

He had wordlessly given her the umbrella then disappeared soon after, and then most likely forgot about their meeting moments later, but in those few moments, Marinette's young heart had been stolen.

Hell, she didn't even know he was the prince at the time, or next in line to the throne. All she knew was from the moment their eyes met, her heart no longer belonged to her alone.

_God, why must she be such a hopeless romantic?_

"Focus, Marinette, Focus!" Reaching in to dip a finger into the mixture of ingredients in the bowl and reaching it to her lips for a taste, she sighs.

Daydreaming about the prince would do nothing for her in the long run. No matter how many times she replayed the umbrella scene in her mind, or daydreamed about twirling in his arms at the ball, it would change nothing in reality. The only chance she had at even reminding Adrien of her existence would be through her macarons, and to make the lasting impression she hoped to make, the macarons would be have to be pretty damn good.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at the bowl of batter on the counter as newfound ambition surged through her veins.

Oh yes. Those ingredients were going to regret not being baked into perfect macarons previously. Because she was going to beat them, fluff them, and mix them until anybody who dares put one of the macarons into their mouths would be rendered speechless as pure bliss entered their lips.

She was going to make sure those macarons were the damn best thing anybody would ever taste, and she was going to make sure that they would be all anybody could ever think about.

Her eyes glinted with determination.

_All Adrien could think about. _


	2. Of Alleyways and Kittens

****_**-Night-**_

There was still batter under her nails.

Biting her lips with concentration, Marinette attempted to pick out the remainders of hardened macaron mixture that had solidified under her nails, flicking off the crumbs onto the alley floor. However annoying the tightness of the batter felt under her nails, part of her somewhat liked it, having it serve as a reminder of her previous accomplishment.

After countless minutes, no, _hours _of her continuously mixing different flavors together, tasting it, and eventually throwing it out, she had finally created the perfect batch of macarons. They were strawberry flavored, decorated with pastel pink icing that she had delicately squeezed to create a beautiful rose decal. The macaron itself was baked to perfection, each bit of biscuit perfectly fluffy, chewy and crisp, balanced perfectly on creamy layers of icing in the middle.

Her only regret was only making a dozen- if she had more time she would have attempted to replicate a second batch of the perfect macarons, possibly in a different color that would help add to the overall aesthetics and presentation of the baked goods.

If she had more time….

Yet the dusty gold colours of the setting sun as she had been finishing baking her perfect batch served as a reminder of another duty she held, another place she had to be, another person to meet.

The reason she stood in this cold alleyway in the dead of night, folding her arms across her body, trying to retain as much warmth as possible against the icy winds.

She glided her hands across the red and black dots of her tunic, smoothing out any ruffles and folds the velvet fabric had gotten into whilst leaning against the rough brick of the deserted alleyway. Spotting a puddle nearby, she leans down to gaze at her reflection, checking to see whether the red and black jeweled mask she adorned properly hid her face.

She had used to hate their designated meeting place of the alley, with it's eerie emptiness and unsettling sounds of echoing clangs that seemed to come from nowhere. Yet now Marinette had to admit that she had developed a bit of a soft spot for it; It was a nice contrast to her day-life of helping out in the bakery, which was always loud with the clamoring voices of new customers.

Sighing, she stretched out her arms, arched her back, and leaned against the wall.

He was late.

_Again. _

Fighting down twinges of annoyance, she gazed around the still empty alleyway when there was a sudden banging noise above her. Looking up, she scowled.

"Waiting long, My Lady?" Chat Noir purred from his spot above her on the roof, the moon causing tufts of his blonde hair to appear almost silver like in juxtaposition to his jet black mask that disguised the rest of his features.

"I'm used to it at this point, _Chaton_."

"Apologies, Bugaboo. Life has been pretty busy lately."

Grabbing the edge of the roof, he jumped onto the nearest windowsill and gracefully slid down a plumbing pipe, smirking as he bounded up to Marinette.

"But no matter how busy my life is, it'll never be too busy for _you_."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."

"Insu_purr_able, you mean?" His mouth twitched. "Besides, I got a bit distracted just watching My Lady from above. I have a suspicion you look good at any angle, and so far my theory has been correct."

"Honestly Chat, sometimes I think you became a rebel just to pick up girls."

"Girl." He corrected. "Not girls. And you hurt my heart, Bugaboo. You know as much as I do that I despise how the royals treat our people right now." His eyes darkened.

Marinette's face softened.

"I know, Chat. I shouldn't have made a joke about that."

Looking away, Chat arched his back, stretching his hands into the air as he let out a massive yawn, and Marinette couldn't help but notice how much taller he had gotten over the years.

_Over the years…. _

And with a twitch of her lips, Marinette felt herself drifting back in memory lane, to when she first met Chat.

Five years ago, since her first meeting with Prince Adrien that one fateful day in the rain, Marinette's developing interest in the prince had also led her curiosity of the rebel group, _The Miraculous_, to grow. She had no previous impression of them, thinking that they didn't really do anything. Yet upon researching Adrien, she had stumbled upon articles on his father, King Hawkmoth, followed by the articles of the laws he was creating, the people he was mistreating.

And she admits, her motives for joining had been questionable at first- it had only taken hours after meeting Adrien for her feelings to grow and grow until it had reached that point where it would only take hearing his name for Marinette's heart to pound, for her stomach to flutter with butterflies that tickled her insides.

Marinette knew that she wasn't the kind of girl that would change who she was just for the boy he loves, yet she had also noticed that her views and perceptions on certain things had began to change- Hawkmoth was no longer just a King that had slightly warped views on how to deal with things (which was how both her parents seemed to view the whole "Our King is cruel" controversy), but as Marinette began keeping a closer eye on news of the royal family, she had begun to realize how much of a tyrant- how cruel he really was.

Falling in love with Adrien had helped her to realize that as a member of somewhat upper class family, she had been shielded from Hawkmoth's fits of rage, and further investigating in older articles had shown that there had been darker secrets that had been hushed, whispers of his soldiers, _the Akumas, _enslaving the poor. And as a 13 year old teenage girl filled with impossible fantasies, she began to dream of how she, Marinette, would be the one to save Adrien from having to live in his father's footsteps. After all, he was so _kind _to her, and Marinette couldn't imagine how someone that sweet would ever find what Hawkmoth was doing as acceptable.

Thus began her journey in joining the Miraculous, where after careful observation and questioning she was finally able to locate the base held in the sewers of Paris, where recruitment was occurring. Fighting down a lifetime's cultivation of worry and panic, she had researched clothing design for hours and trudged through basket loads of fabric scraps to hastily put together a red and black tunic and mask that she hoped would cover up all of her main features. Yet against intuition she had decided to keep her signature pigtails in place; having a piece of herself still intact helped with her nerves.

Of course, that didn't stop them from going absolutely haywire as soon as she stepped into the large underground sewers- The echoing of unknown voices bounced off the walls eerily, and Marinette had never felt more alone in her life, huddled in the midst of a bustling crowd, when-

"You new too?"

And upon hearing his voice, Marinette had whipped around, her heart racing and face flushing, wondering what on earth Adrien was doing here, and why he was talking to her but-

It wasn't him.

Instead, before her stood a young boy around her age dressed clad in black, his face almost completely covered by a silk black mask that only left room for his mouth and eyes, which had a warm yet mischievous glint to them.

"How did you know?" She asked cautiously.

"Your demeanor. Seemed nervous."

"And I take that you're new too?"

"Your assumption would be correct."

There was an awkward moment as both of them stood there, unsure of what to say next. Marinette bit her lip slightly, turning to look at him.

"What's your name?"

He raised his eyebrows, and Marinette had felt her face begin to turn red.

"_What's your name?" You're such an idiot Marinette! We're at an underground society for heaven's sake. And the first thing you do is ask for their identity? What were you even-_

"Chat Noir"

She blinked twice, surprised.

"That's my cover name, if you want one. Because I'm as charming and charismatic as a cat of the night." He added with a wink.

Flustered at his flirty demeanor, she had looked away awkwardly, racking her head for an appropriate response. The boy…..no, _Chat Noir _took a step forward, bemusedly looking straight at her.

"And what's yours?"

"It's…..uhm….."

Frantically looking down at herself, trying to look for something that could be an inspiration for her cover name, her eyes landed on the black and red pattern of her tunic. She recalled Chat Noir's own reasoning behind his name, and panickedly tried thinking of a creature that was red and black.

Her eyes widened.

"It's Ladybug. Because I'm...um…"

_God, why did she pick a ladybug? Are there even any good things associated with ladybugs? Why couldn't she pick something cooler, like dragon or- _

"Because you're lucky?"

"Huh?"

"Ladybugs are a sign of good luck, aren't they?"

Grateful for his idea, she attempted to smile in what she hoped was a confident manner.

"Yes. Ladybugs are a sign of good luck, and that's why I chose it."

His mouth twitched, and she suspected that he knew that she actually didn't have a name prepared beforehand. Feeling a bit embarrassed as well as frustrated with the amused way he was looking at her, she pondered on what she could say that would stop him from laughing at her.

And then to both the surprise of Chat Noir and even herself, she blurted out:

"Hopefully I can be your good luck charm as well."

His eyes widened, and for a second Marinette wondered if she had misread his personality and overstepped, and how _this was so embarrassing, why did she say that? - _until his eyes crinkled and his mouth widened to let out a loud laugh. A moment passed, then Marinette found herself laughing along with him.

And in this cold underground, laughing breathlessly with this random boy that was just her height and had a questionable personality, she no longer felt so quite alone.

She had a feeling that she would be seeing Chat Noir quite often from now on.

**Thanks for reading! Note: I fixed the macaron recipe in the first chapter so that its actually accurate (haha). Also, all reviews and follows are appreciated, so don't be scared to let me know what you liked/disliked/where you think the story's going etc! **


	3. Of Midnight Strolls and Mysteries

**To prevent confusion, just a reminder that in this AU the "Akumas" are the king's (Hawkmoth's) guards, and that the Miraculous is the name of the rebel organization that Ladybug and Chat Noir are a part of :)**

**...**

-**Back to present-**

Marinette had always found the comfortable silences that her and Chat Noir settled into to be one of her favourite parts of patrol. Her hectic schedule rarely allowed for any time to relax, but she always found that walking side by side Chat Noir allowed her to simply _appreciate_ her surroundings. Like tonight, for instance, the moon was full and bathed all the houses in a pale yellow light, the countless stars reflected in the river in what looked like a thousand twinkling lights. It was truly a beautiful sight, one that would be enough to make a painter have enough inspiration to create a masterpiece that people would fawn over for the next hundred years.

She suspected that Chat Noir also appreciated their mutual silent rendezvous quite a lot, although he always made a show of acting aggrieved that he had no opportunity to make more cat puns. However on tonight's patrol, she couldn't help but notice that his usual twitchy self instead looked quite defeated- his emerald eyes were downcast and he made no attempt to move closer to her- an indicator that was very uncharacteristic of him.

"What's wrong, kitty cat?" She chided, and he turned to give her a sideways glance, the outer corner of his lip twitching.

"I just feel a tad bit useless, I guess."

Upon seeing Marinette's dubious eyebrow raise, he pursed his lips.

"Don't get me wrong, Bugaboo. I do find that our midnight patrols are quite the romantic getaway," to which Marinette rolled her eyes.

"But sometimes I wonder if we're really doing all that we can. Apart from helping the occasional homeless person from finding a place for the night and catching local thieves, is there really nothing else we could be doing? I'm sure there's people that Hawkmoth imprisoned that we can-"

Her heart softened. His genuine compassion and eagerness to help others was one of her favourite qualities of him, and it was true that lately Hawkmoth had seemed to tame down a bit- there were less whisperings of rumours of people he starved and threw out onto the streets.

Which was a good thing, of course. But the lack of activity instead just sparked dread in her mind. A bit of paranoia.

"I know, Chaton. But don't forget that little things to us can make the world for others."

After hesitating for a second, he sagged his head and nodded dejectedly, the tufts of blonde hair bobbing somewhat comically with it.

Smiling inwardly, Marinette made no attempt to comfort him because _it's Chat Noir we're talking about here_, and sure enough within the next two seconds he perks back up, tapping her on her shoulder.

"Say, are you a midday stroll kind of girl?" He asks, curiosity brimming in his eyes.

"Why'd you ask?"

"You just seem like the kind of person that would enjoy just a casual walk in the park, observe the scenery you know. Maybe with a _Furr_iend or two?"

"Is it important for you to know?" She quips, teasingly.

He bats his eyelashes in a comical manner in response.

"Everything about My Lady is considered important for me to know."

He winks.

"Or im_Purr_tant, should I say."

Marinette sighs halfheartedly in response, rolling her eyes in an obvious manner, yet Chat Noir continues on.

"But you do seem like the person to appreciate the smaller things in life. Find a beauty in mundane things. I like that about you."

Now _this_ statement came as more of a surprise to her. Heat rises into her cheeks, and she swallows and looks down at the pavement. Noticing the satisfied smirk on Chat Noir's face, she forced her face to look as neutral as possible and bit her tongue.

"Well maybe if you spent less time racking your brain for cat puns then you would learn to appreciate some nice and quiet too."

"Your cheeks are turning red, My Lady."

Marinette scowls. She opens her mouth to say something that would hopefully wipe that triumphant smirk off his face as well as hide the fact that she indeed, for some strange reason, had blushed, when all of a sudden there was an ear splitting screech from somewhere ahead of them.

Marinette and Chat Noir stopped in their steps, exchanged a look of shock, her mouth still hanging wide open from her attempt at speaking.

_What the heck was that? Some sort of deranged bird? _

Then it continues- that agony filled moaning- and it becomes very clear that it was no demented animal that was making that noise; it was a human.

"It came from the alleyway in front of us." Chat Noir says, and he begins sprinting forwards, and Marinette follows suit.

Breathless, they stumble into the alleyway where the frantic screaming had still not stopped, when Chat Noir stops suddenly in his tracks causing Marinette's face to crash into his back. When usually her close proximity to him would cause an endless stream of flirtatious jokes to teasingly come out of his mouth, there was instead an unnerving silence from him. Wanting to see who had been making such agonizing sounds, she placed a hand on his shoulder and peeked over his shoulder.

In front of them was a man dressed clad in silver armour with his back faced to them. He was large in build, and his armour was weirdly shiny in some parts, and dirt streaked in others. An empty glass tube was clutched in his hand, the intensity of his grip causing his hand to shake and his knuckles to turn white. Strange lettering was carved across the back of his chest-plate, and Marinette was squinting her eyes to try and make the words out when a soft moaning started coming from his feet. Her eyes drop downwards, and her stomach flips.

Laying at the feet of the armoured man was another man, who seemed to be around middle aged. He had a kind face- one scattered in freckles and gave off the trustworthy vibe- but it was a face that was currently scrunched up in a face of agony. The veins on his neck were pulsating unnaturally, and there seemed to be a constant internal battle between grinding his teeth and opening his lips to let out another pain filled moan. His eyelids were clamped shut in what Marinette assumed to be pain, but when he opened them-

_Oh god, his eyes._

They were pitch black, already an unnerving contrast to the rest of his face, yet where the whites of the sclera should have been showing was only more black. It was almost like there was a massive void where his eyes once were.

Marinette is unable to stop the gasp that escaped her lips.

Hearing her inhale, the armoured man whips around with a fist raised, and upon seeing their faces throws the glass bottle onto the floor causing shards of glass to explode like little bombs, scattering across the floor in a mosaic like pattern. Sprinting towards them with a heavy scowl on his face cast in shadows, he pushed past them to run out of the alley.

"Hey! Get back here!" Chat yells, and immediately begins to chase him, leaving Marinette to deal with the man on the floor, who had stopped his harrowed yelling.

Dropping down onto her knees, she places an arm behind the man's head to try and act like a cushion against the cold stone of the alleyway walls. Unsure of what to do, she gives him a gentle shake, prompting him to murmur drowsily in response and slowly open his squinted eyes.

"L...Ladybug." The man whispers hoarsely, and his pitch black eyes bored into hers, as if they were searing into her soul.

"Yes, it's Ladybug. We got you. You're going to be okay. What happened to you?"

"Ladybug." He whispers again.

"Yes...You're going to be alright now." She soothed, trying to placate the man. Then to her shock, all of a sudden with resurgent strength, as is possessed by a ghost, he sits up and grabs her throat with intensity.

"Give me the location of the Miraculous's base!" the man snarled, his rotten breath hot against her face, as his features began to morph into an expression of immeasurable fury and disgust. Frozen with shock, Marinette was at mercy to his grip, her heart pummelling her ribs. His grasp on his neck begins to tighten….and tighten….

And then an unseen force collides into the man, causing him to go flying further into the alleyway, his head audibly smashing against the pavement knocking him out cold. A shadow is cast over her, and she turns to see Chat Noir, looking furious, his right foot still extended in the kicking position. He turns to look at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"You ok?" He asks, concern written all over his face, and Marinette had never been more glad to see him.

She gave a breathless nod as Chat scowled and walked to bend over the man, looking quite aggravated.

"Were they both bad, then? Was it a diversion tactic to separate us?"

Gently placing a hand on his shoulder, she pulls him away from the unconscious man.

"Something was controlling him, Chat. The man that was standing over him must have drugged him or gave him something that made him act out and hate us."

She shivered, remembering the look of pure hatred and fury on the man's face.

"The motive was probably information. He wanted to know where the location of the Miraculous base was. Where our rebels were working from."

She cuts off when she sees that there was a large shadow behind Chat Noir. Glancing down, she sees that his fist is wrapped around the helm of a chest-plate.

A silver chest-plate with an unconscious man still inside.

"You caught him!" She exclaims, somewhat surprised.

Chat nods grimly.

Sauntering around Chat Noir to look at the back of the man's chest-plate, Marinette squints her eyes to try and make out the dented wording.

_Audentis Fortuna Iuvat. _

_Now where had I heard that before? _

It was latin; it reminded her of a motto of some sort.

_A motto? _

She gasps.

"Chat, that's an Akuma. One of the King's guards! The words on his back is the king's motto!"

He nods once again, reaching deep into the pockets on the sides of his tunic. After a few moments of digging around in his pockets, he pulls out what looked like a yellow brick.

_No, not a brick. Was that cheese that he was holding? Camembert? _

Before Marinette could even question him on the strangeness of having Camembert in his pocket, Chat Noir shoves the cheese under the armoured man's nose with no remorse. The man begins to twitch, and after a few seconds his eyes burst open whilst scrunching his nose and leaning away from the cheese. Chat Noir tightens his grip on the man and slams him against the wall.

"What did you do to that man? Are you working for somebody?" He questions threateningly, leaning his face closer to the man. The armoured man, no, the Akuma scoffs and looks away.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He sneered.

"Why you little-"

"Do you work for Hawkmoth?" Marinette cuts in softly, almost hesitantly.

It was a possibility that had teetered at the edge of her mind since discovering his identity, but one with drastic implications.

The Akuma glances at her with an expression of surprise, and with a calculating look he shakes his head and averts his gaze.

Chat Noir laughs dryly.

"Of course he isn't. Not even Hawkmoth is that twisted. He must be working alone."

In one quick motion, he bashes the Akuma's head into the wall again, effectively knocking him out again. Marinette winces as he lets out a low sigh.

"I'll turn him into the constables. Can you get him to the Miraculous infirmary?"

He bit his lip.

"Not the one inside our base; the one outside. I don't think it's a good idea to bring this one back to the base just in case he's still….controlled, as you said."

Marinette bobs her head in response. Flexing his muscles as he wrapped his arm around the unconscious Akuma, Chat Noir winks once more at Marinette somewhat tiredly, elongates his baton, and quickly disappears into the night, leaving her alone with the strange man lying on the floor. Taking cautious steps closer, she peers into his eyes to ensure that they were still closed, before awkwardly lifting his body up, bridal style. Tossing her yoyo so that it wraps around the plumbing on the ceiling of a nearby apartment, she tenses her muscles, whilst trying to calm her brain.

She couldn't stop replaying that one moment when the Akuma had answered her question- the unconfident shake of his head, the guilty look in his eyes.

Chat Noir had been sure that the Akuma was working alone, but Marinette wasn't.

_What if he lied? _

_What if he's protecting somebody else?_

She swallows.

_What if that person is Hawkmoth? That man….he seemed like he was possessed. Why would Hawkmoth want to possess people? If he's cruel enough to mistreat the poor and less fortunate, would this really be that hard to believe from him? _

She pulls on the yoyo, launching her up into the night sky as her grasp around the unconscious man tightened protectively.

One last thought.

_What if Hawkmoth was far worse than any of us ever thought?_

_..._

**Thanks for reading! I really appreciate all the reads and reviews, whether they be complimentary or constructive :) I'll try to answer any questions/clear up confusion in the reviews under the story, so don't be afraid to leave reviews!**

**Responding:**

**Yes, I'm planning on having a Ladrien first meeting, as well as Marichat meeting. Basically touching upon all four sides of the love square!**

**I'm planning on regularly updating the story and have a general storyline, but I'm always open to what readers want included :)**


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